


宁静

by orphan_account



Category: Firefly
Genre: Drabble Sequence, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 11:40:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12863745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: níngjìng: serenity





	宁静

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something for them that was pure fluff since that is my Thing, but sadly it was not to be. This time. So instead you get this little series of angsty and fluffy drabbles. Also, the title doesn't really have anything to do with the fic, it's just that I'd just learned how to write _serenity_ in Chinese, so since I'm terrible with titles and that was the first that came to mind, I figured I'd just go with that rather than spend 12+ hrs thinking of a more suitable one, by which time I surely woulda decided to delete all copies of the fic. So. Rather not give my mind the chance to work against me if I can
> 
> I still had [my last fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12860568) in mind when I wrote this (I had literally just posted it), and I guess it could be seen as being in the same 'verse (iii did kinda come from it), but it doesn't have to be; heck, I had originally intended it to be a sequel of sorts until it swung off in a completely different direction after the first paragraph
> 
> Fair warning, this was written at 3 a.m., but my friend read it and told me it made sense, and I trust her judgement

i

It takes him a moment to realize that he’s not imagining the bars of soft sunlight that fall across Simon’s face and shoulders, as he’s often found himself doing in these bleary moments of just-wakefulness when the afterimages of dreams have yet to fade.

It won’t last, of course; they’re only planetside for a few days.

But for now, he’ll enjoy the special way his lover’s eyes shine in the morning sunlight, and how it makes his smile seem that much warmer as he kisses him awake. He’ll indulge in these dreams of a home he can never return to, a home and life that has long since ceased to be his to share—now, _Serenity_ is all he knows.

 

ii

“I love you,” Simon says, unable to deny himself the truth in those words any longer; he’s ached to say them for longer than he can say, ached so long that it’s impossible to hold them back.

Mal kisses him, an answer and yet not, and when Simon pulls away, Mal can’t quite meet his eyes.

It hurts, though it’s not unexpected. No complications. Love is the biggest complication of them all.

He can feel that blue gaze follow him until the door shuts behind him.

 

iii

_I loved you from the first time we kissed, maybe even before, but that was when I knew it. I didn’t want to love you. If I love you, any number of enemies I make in this line of work could hurt me through you. If I love you, you won’t be safe._

_But I do anyway, and—_

“It terrifies me,” he says.

_It terrifies me how much you came to mean to me, and how quickly, and all without me realizin’. It terrifies me how much I mean to you._

Simon knows without him saying, can read it in his eyes. And Mal can read in his eyes that it’s not the answer he wants, or needs, but he accepts it.

It’s the truth that’s been aching in Mal’s heart for just as long, but he knows how to hold it back, or doesn’t know how to set it free.

 

iv

Simon kisses him before settling into bed, every night. “I love you,” he says against his skin, every night. He doesn’t expect anything in return; he knows better than that.

“I love you,” Mal whispers, stroking soft hair back from his lover’s face after he fallen asleep. “I love you,” he whispers again, and his heart hurts with it, and he presses a kiss to the top of his head, then drifts off to sleep himself.

It will be a while before he says it when Simon can hear him, and even longer before he says it back every night, but it’s a start. He will not let his life be ruled by fear.

 

v

He flops down on the loveseat, turning to lay lengthwise across the cushions, resting his head on Simon’s lap as he bends his knees and tucks his feet against the armrest so his legs don’t hang off the side. Simon switches to a one-handed hold on his book and drops his other hand to Mal’s head, carding his fingers through his hair.

Mal watches him for a bit, watches the way his lips move subtly to form the shape of each word as he reads them. “Love you,” he says, as natural as if he’s always known how.

Simon smiles, and he closes his eyes, those fingers only straying from his hair to turn a page, and they stay like that, content, until they’re needed elsewhere.


End file.
